Addiction to Barbie
by fantasticality
Summary: Chad Dylan Cooper is not a little girl. Chad Dylan Cooper is a stud. Chad Dylan Cooper does not freaking enjoy playing on Barbie's freaking website!


**_Disclaimer: I don't own Sonny With a Chance or Barbie (dot) com._**

**My second SWAC fic. It's been a while since I've written one, so I'm pretty rusty. Especially at the cocky, smexy Chad Dylan Cooper. ^^ Anyways, wouldn't let me put the Barbie (dot) Com with the period, so I had to do it like that. Stupid site. **

**Hope you like it, though!**

_**Dedication: To the amazing pyrolyn-776 because Ada came up with the idea! x)**_

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This cannot be healthy.

Any addiction to some little kiddie thing can't be good for you. Especially not one for little girls. Chad Dylan Cooper is not a little girl. Chad Dylan Cooper is a stud. Chad Dylan Cooper does not freaking enjoy playing on Barbie's freaking website!

I'm thoroughly enjoying it, too! This is the second week in a row when I've played Fashion Fever every day for an hour. I like to think I enjoy the idea of a girl like Barbie. You know, big boobs, long legs, pretty? It's like a female Chad Dylan Cooper!

But noooo. Every time I play on Barbie (dot) com it's like heaven. I'm enjoying myself, picking out the fashionable clothes for Barbie, or changing her looks so she's even more of a knockout (I find the brunette look works very well for her). I've even given Ken a hot new makeover! And it never gets old. The constant sounds of girlish music, the butterflies, the _pink. _I revel in it.

I try to convince myself it's the child in me that loves it. Honestly, if it was the child in me, I'd be playing with my old Hotwheels cars or Thomas the Train crap. But no. I play with Barbie. The girliest fucking toys in the whole wide world.

People would never suspect that Chad Dylan Cooper plays on Barbie (dot) Com. (No, not Barbies. That's an entirely different story.) I hope they'll never find out. Every day, I'm trying to quit. It's like smoking, only I have a longing ache in my heart when I try to give it up. And then the addiction increases tenfold. I mean, I already have enough people wondering if I'm gay or not because I spend so much time on my hair (It's perfectly normal! All those haters are just jealous). I don't need this… this _shame _to make itself known to people.

I shudder and think about what it would be like if people found out. If _Sonny _found out. I bet she'd think it's creepy for a guy in his late teens—a _studly _guy like Chad Dylan Cooper—would be playing on Barbie (dot) com on his own free will.

I shake my head to get rid of the terrifying thoughts and turn back to the computer. I figure I look like a total computer nerd right now; hunched over the computer; my headphones on, and the lights turned so dim, they're almost off. Now that I think about it, people who see me probably will think I'm looking at some sort of porno or something.

Chad Dylan Cooper doesn't look at porn. Porn is for people who can't get a girlfriend.

I squint at the makeover game I'm playing and try to decide whether Barbie should have magenta or burgundy lipstick, because both look great on her. I decide on the pale, neutral pink. There are a bunch of tough choices on this game! Blonde or brown hair, short or long? I make the best possible decision I can (which is pretty damn good since Chad Dylan Cooper has a pretty good fashion sense). I click the "Finish" button and look at my final product, satisfied at my creation. Why does she look so familiar, though?

Suddenly, the lights flash on, and I let out a shriek of surprise before falling out of my chair. Sonny's standing in the doorway, a confused look on her face. Aw, shit.

I hurry to my laptop, but Sonny's quicker, picking it up before I even reach it. "Barbie (dot) com?" she asks as she raises a fine eyebrow amusedly.

My face grows warm, and I fiddle with my thumbs. "I was, uh, checking it out for my little sister?"

"Chad, you're an only child."

"I know."

Taking a longer glance at the screen, Sonny's eyes widen. "Why does this look like me?" I could tell what her expression said. "Creepy…"

So that's why it was so familiar! Most of my other creations looked like that, so I figured it was just another sense of déjà vu. So that means all of them looked like Sonny. How the hell does that happen?

"It's not you," I protest weakly, slightly embarrassed. "I just think that, uh, it looks nice."

"So you think I look nice?" Sonny's face is slightly pink and her eyebrow is raised even higher than before. It's like she's giving me a sultry look. Damn, that's hot.

I want to tell her that she's beautiful, but my mouth gets the better of me again. "On Barbie, it looks nice. On you, not so much."

Sonny scoffs, and she's obviously offended. Her nimble hands immediately reach up to her hair, stroking it gently. "I look fine as a brunette!"

"Fine still isn't sexy," I point out. Insert mouth, put in foot.

"You're such a jerk!" she shrieks before letting out a huff and stalking off. In her rage, she drops my precious laptop on the ground, but I don't pay much notice.

After she disappears from my sight, I slap my forehead and mutter, "God, Chad, you're such an idiot!" Why do I always have to be such a jerk? I know it hurts Sonny more than other people, but I do it more to her than most people. At the moment, I feel a strong urge to bang my head against the wall. But at that same moment, I make my decision to go after Sonny and tell her how I feel.

I take off in a sprint in the direction Sonny went. She hadn't gotten far. I could see Tawni walking off and knew that her "quick words" usually lasted several minutes. I caught up to her when Sonny was about to walk off. I grabbed her arm urgently.

Sonny turned to face the person who had her arm captive with a surprised expression on her face which immediately turned sour. "Oh. It's you," she says pointedly, glaring up at me.

"I'm sorry, alright?" I say, hoping she would forgive me. "I know I'm a jerk. What I wanted to say was that…" I hesitate slightly, embarrassed to say what I had in mind. "I wanted to say that you're beautiful."

Sonny's face turned the color of a tomato. "…Oh."

"I guess it looked like you because I like you, alright? You're like a Barbie to me." Wow. I just noticed that I have such a way with words.

"So I'm fake and plastic?"

"No!" I exclaim. "You're gorgeous."

Sonny beams up at me, her blush still bright on her face. "T-thanks. You're kind of my Ken, too," she admits.

"That's corny."

"S-shut up!"

"I didn't say I didn't like it." I chuckle. "Do you want to go out for lunch?" I offer. I'm not sure why I'm so nervous. I know she'll say yes. I'm Chad Dylan Cooper. No sane girl turns down a lunch date with me.

"Sure," Sonny agrees, smiling brightly up at me.

I give her a grin before I remember something important. "Hold on," I tell her. "I gotta go turn off my laptop. Wait here." I dash off quickly after I see Sonny give me a nod.

I quickly reach my laptop and pick it up from its spot on the floor. I mutter an apology and say I'll never let anyone throw it on the floor again. I inspect it thoroughly. When I see a scratch, I let out a moan. "My baby is ruined…"

Looking on the screen, I find it's on some sort of link, so I click the back button a couple of times. It takes me back to the closet menu. My eyes land on a new game. "Snip 'n' Style Salon!" I whispered breathily, my eyes wide with excitement. "They got a new game!"

My excitement dies down quickly when I think about Sonny, who I know isn't going to be willing to wait two hours for me to finish playing my game. I close the window and turn off my laptop (I made sure to set it gently on the couch). It could wait.

Ken had to spend time with his Barbie.

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**There you go. I hope it's okay. (: **

**_Feedback is appreciated!_**


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